When I met the one, I just knew. We were meant for each other.
She was silky smooth and faultless, my hand fitted her curves perfectly. I was a better person when she was around. Her name was Joy. InkJoy!
Because one day a pen will come along that a writer just falls in love with. And you can tell a writer designed the InkJoy because of the smooth effortless ink flow and the curvaceous, comfortable body to fit the hand.
But soon it became almost obsessive the way I couldn’t write properly unless I was using my special pen! I had backup ones in case it ran out of ink mid stream. I would get stressed without my other half, the half that made me a whole writer, not just a thinker. And heaven forbid if I was forced to have an affair with another, inadequate one, say, at the bank.